Chasing the Storm
by RavenSchmidt
Summary: Shock drove the air from Bellamy's lungs as he crashed through the water's surface. Emerald blackness surrounded him but for the silver cloud of bubbles rising to the surface. As the violent current dragged him down two thoughts warred for control of his mind: air and Clarke. Bellarke Post Season 2 Finale
1. One

Author's Note: So this is the first fanfic I've posted in approximately eight years. I hope it does justice to this fandom. I will try to update every week until it's finished but I won't make any promises that I'm not 100% sure I can keep. This is also my first ever fanfic in the 100 fandom and my first straight romance fanfic….possibly ever. (Unless you count the Clark/Lois superman stuff I wrote when I was eight but we'll pretend that never happened.) I hope you enjoy. I have a thick skin and a desire to improve so don't be afraid to critique.

Chasing the Storm – a post season 2 Bellarke fic.

Wind ripped through the rocky gorge dragging roiling storm clouds across the bleak sky. Strung between the jagged gray walls of the canyon was a fragile ribbon of a bridge, groaning as it swayed. Its ancient wooden boards and faded ropes were the only thing keeping the pair clinging to it as they made their way across from the swirling black water far below. The cold bit through Bellamy's clothing striking his chest like a knife. Ahead of him he saw Clarke, head down against the oncoming storm with her slender body hunched as she took one careful step after another across the slippery boards.

"Be careful." But his words were eaten by the wind before they could even reach his own ears.

A resounding crack rang out as the board under Clarke's foot snapped. Bellamy reached out, fist closing on the strap of her pack. Their only pack. For an instant he thought he had her but the stitching snapped as her weight slammed into the strap.

"Clarke!" He cried as she fell, plummeting like a stone into the churning rapids. Without hesitation he leapt boots first in after her. His stomach clenched in his chest and time seemed to freeze as he plunged towards the river. Shock drove the air from Bellamy's lungs as he crashed through the water's surface. Emerald blackness surrounded him but for the silver cloud of bubbles rising to the surface. As the violent current dragged him down two thoughts warred for control of his mind: air and _Clarke_. The burning in his lungs won out as he flailed for the white light above. He gasped as his head broke the surface, the splash roaring in his ears. His dark eyes frantically searched for Clarke before the icy undertow dragged him under again. _Fight_ his instincts told him. Every muscle in his body ached with the strain of fighting the undertow. Again he fought his way to precious air. He spied a fallen tree rushing towards him, desperately he grabbed for a branch, once, twice. Finally he caught hold.

"Clarke!" He called her name like a prayer. _Please_ his heart begged. _There!_ He had seen a shock of platinum beneath the wild, black water. Frantically he reached for her. His hand tangled in her hair, wrapping it in his fist his pulled her to him, clutching her limp form against his chest as he lifted her out of the water onto the trunk of the tree.

She was so still, laying there with her face against the knotted bark, lower body still in the river. Bellamy swallowed the lump of fear in his throat crawling closer to her and wrapping his arm tighter around Clarke to keep the swirling abyss from tearing her away from him again.

Consciously, he knew that they had mere minutes before hypothermia set in. Already he could feel its fog wrapping his brain in darkness. _No._ He warned himself. _Stay awake or you'll both drown._

A thud jolted their bodies as the tree caught between a two giant boulders. Ahead the foaming river became an impassable gauntlet of white water and rock. Bellamy could see that the riverbanks were lower here, lined with sharp-edged rock outcroppings. The way the fallen tree groaned under the strain of the rushing water told him that he didn't have long to make up his mind. It was now or never. Snaking his arm around her narrow ribcage he lifted Clarke onto his chest, letting her head roll onto his shoulder and holding her close like a child. Bracing his underarm against the tree trunk he dug his fingers into the bark. Using both his hand and his elbow to leverage them inches at a time towards the boulder closest to dry land. Just as his fingertips gained purchase on the rock the tree gave way with a agonizing groan, its wake dragging the entangled pair under the surface. Bellamy flailed his free arm, kicking hard with his legs trying hopelessly to regain his grip on the rock. His foot struck rock and he managed to gulp in a short breath of air before having it knocked from his lungs by a sudden impact with another rock. Here at least was some shelter from the current. Bellamy dug the toe of his boot into the stone, leveraging Clarke out of the water, hauling himself out after her.

"Come on Princess," he begged, turning her on her side and lowering his ear to her mouth. She wasn't breathing. With a trembling hand he lifted her wrist, feeling for her pulse. "Please."

Bellamy heaved a sigh of relief. Clarke's pulse was weak but it was there. Rolling her onto her back he cupped her chin in his calloused hand tilting her head back so air could flow from his lungs to hers. Her lips still felt warm despite the biting cold of the air. Her chest rose and fell as he helped her breath. This wasn't how he had hoped the first time their mouths would meet would be. Again he breathed for her. Again and again, fear clenching its fist tightly around his heart. Finally she sputtered and began to struggle to inhale. With an arm under her he turned her away from him so the water her body was ejecting didn't go back down into her lungs. When she had finished he pulled her small frame in close to his broad chest.

"You remembered." She coughed weakly, clutching at his sleeve with a shaking hand. He rested his chin on her soaked hair.

"You're a good teacher," he murmured in a tender voice, gazing down at her with relief glowing in his dark eyes.

"Except you forgot the part about not jumping in after a drowning person," she teased.

"Lapse of judgment. Won't do it again. Unless you plan on falling in a river again." His hand slid over the smoothness of her hair, holding her close and almost forgetting the bitter wind that tore right through their drenched clothing.

"Nope. No chance of that," she replied with a small smile.

"Clarke."

"Bellamy."

"We need to get out of the wind."


	2. The Good Scythian

_Author's Note: Thank you to the people who left such sweet reviews on the last chapter. 3 It's much easier to stay motivated to keep going with a story with such awesome encouragement. :) I'm sooo sorry it took so long to update. I was trying to get some major edits done on the first chapter of my novel and get it back to my beta readers, plus work, plus a crap ton of volunteer work so…. Finally here it is. I will endeavor to be much faster in the future. :)_

 **Chasing the Storm Chapter 2: The Good Scythian**

The cave wrapped around them providing womb-like shelter from the driving winds howling just outside. Its ceiling was low, just high enough that a tall person would be able to touch it if they stood on tiptoe.

Clarke knew that the tingling warmth she felt spreading through her body was not a good sign. What did it mean again? How long ago had she stopped shivering? She strained against the hypothermic fog that gripped her brain trying to stay conscious. Distantly she felt warm, trembling fingers brush her cheek.

"Hanging in there Princess?" Bellamy asked through chattering teeth. She could feel the tremors of his shivering chest as they huddled together for warmth. The dampness of her clothes clinging to her skin made her bones ache with the slightest stirring of the air. Still, wet clothes were better than none at all.

"Yea." She strained weekly. How long had they been here? It couldn't have been long if they were both still talking.

"Good. We're going to make it, Clarke," He declared. Her eyebrows knit together as her numb cheeks attempted to form some semblance of a smile. If she hadn't come to know him so well these last months she might have believed the false sincerity in his voice.

The last vestiges of daylight outside the mouth of the cave had taken on a purplish glow and the roar of rain had shifted to a softer sound. Something fluffy and white was piling up outside and drifting onto the first few feet of the sandy cave floor. It was snowing, Clarke realized. Their first snowstorm on Earth would be the one that would kill them.

"Bellamy I - I…" Clarke's numb mouth couldn't form her vague feelings into coherent words.

"Shh, I know." His arms squeezed a little tighter around her. "Me too."

A flicker of golden light outside caught Clarke's attention. At first she had thought she was imagining it but then, it came again, brighter this time. Closer this time. Suddenly the realization dawned on her that it was someone carrying a lamp. Bellamy, still holding her tightly, shuffled closer to the cave wall until an outcropping of rock obscured the entrance from view, and hopefully them whomever might be outside. Clarke could hear her own heart racing, a new surge of adrenaline keeping her conscious just a little longer. Perhaps it wouldn't be the cold that would kill them but the grounder outside.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed before they heard the scuffling of footsteps at the mouth of the cave. The yellow glow of the lantern bathed the inside of cave casting dancing black shadows behind each bump in the rock. Something seemed odd about the footsteps as they came closer, there was a heaviness to the sound as though the person was a very large man, but at the same time the steps seemed too nimble for such a man. As the figures came into view suddenly Clarke understood what she had been hearing. Not a large man at all, but a small woman with a massive horse following so closely behind her that its soft muzzle nearly touched her shoulder. 

Holding the light ahead of her, scanning into the darkness for anything that might be a threat the woman seemed childlike next to the mare. As she set the lantern down the flame flickered, glinting off of flecks of gold leaf inlayed into the delicately carved leather of the horse's saddle.

"Stand." The grounder woman told her horse. Her blue eyes, though not as bright as Clarke's, held a similar air of authority and gentleness. The mare obediently stopped walking, standing almost as though at attention, lowering her head and chewing on her bit idly. "Good girl." The grounder praised, scratching the horse behind one fuzzy ear. She stepped around to the horse's side and removed a bundle wrapped in sheepskin and tied with a tan leather strap from where it had been clipped to a bright brass ring on the back of the saddle.

Bellamy sneezed.

The grounder woman jumped, whirling around and dropping the bundle. It clattered to the sandy stone with a wooden thump.

"Jesus! Mary! Joseph!" She made a gesture across her chest that Clarke vaguely remembered having seen in a history recording somewhere. The sign of the cross? Those large eyes widened, reminding Clarke a little of how Octavia had looked when they first arrived on the ground.

"It's alright, I won't hurt you." She looked at Bellamy with lambskin-gloved hands raised in front of her to demonstrate her intent. Her eyes shifted from Bellamy to Clarke, gaze softening with something akin to pity and concern. "Is she alive?" The girl asked.

"Barely," Bellamy's voice was a low, shaky rumble. "She's been drifting in an out of consciousness. Hypothermia." His words were muddied by the numbness of his frozen cheeks.

"Good God!" The girl replied, hastily shrugging off her heavy parka. "Get that wet coat off her right now."

"mm, 's fine." Clarke mumbled struggling against the stiffness of her muscles lift arms and get her jacket off. She fumbled to no avail trying to get a grip on the tab of her zipper. The grounder girl wrapped one warm, gloved hand around hers, moving it out of the way and unzipped zipper. Clarke felt a flush of embarrassment and frustration colour her cheeks as she felt Bellamy peel her jacket from her shoulders and lift her shirt over her head. This was _not_ how she had fantasized about being undressed by the handsome rebel. It took him several attempts to unhook her bra but when he was finally successful she found herself greatly relieved to be free of the icy cold foam. Every muscle in her body seemed to melt as she felt silky soft fur envelop her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed as she drifted off again.

"Can you finish getting her out of the rest of her clothes while I get a fire going?" The grounder girl looked up at Bellamy as she finished bundling Clarke in her parka. Bellamy nodded stiffly. "And yourself too, don't worry I won't look." She stood up striding over to her horse who was shuffling impatiently.

"You can wait." She told her mare sternly, offering a friendly scratch under the mare's thick mane when she settled compliantly. "You're not going to die if I don't get you undressed right this second."

Bellamy half watched the grounder unclipping another bundle from her saddle, this one a thick roll of fur and cloth tied with two heavy straps made of brightly coloured yarn woven into chevron patterns. The rest of his attention was fixed on getting Clarke out of her soaked pants and boots. He couldn't count the number of times he'd fantasized about this but these were definitely _not_ the circumstances he'd imagined. He accepted a thick, cable knit blanket made of an extremely soft yarn from the grounder and wrapped it around Clarke's pale legs.

"I don't have another coat but you can use the strap to hold one of the blankets on." She held out one of the woven straps off the roll of blankets in one hand and the two other blankets in the other.

"Thanks," He replied, closing his fingers in the soft, thick fur of the quilt. She turned around, picking up the bundle she had dropped earlier and setting it in the middle of the floor.

"My name's Rania by the way." She pulled the sheepskin wrap away, revealing a pile of chopped wood of varying sizes and a leather pouch. Skillfully, she arraigned some of the thinner pieces of wood in a neat pyramid structure and opened the pouch. Bellamy kept one eye on Clarke's sleeping form as he dressed himself in the heavy fur and linen quilt, tying it at his waist with the strap the grounder had provided. He gathered Clarke into his arms and moved her close to where their rescuer was building her fire. She struck a small, black stone with the blunt edge of a hunting knife sending a shower of sparks onto a small pile of tinder. The air crackled with the sound of the flame leaping to life, the grounder girl leaned forward, holding the strands of her long coppery hair that had escaped from the collar of her vest back with one hand and blew softly on the small flame. Gently she coaxed the flame to grow a little larger bit by bit and then used a small stick shove the flame underneath the stick pyramid. Before long the cheery flames danced on the wood transforming the dingy cave into a cozy home.

Still, Bellamy eyed her suspiciously as he wrapped the remaining blanket around himself and Clarke. There was something amiss about her. For one thing she was too clean, sure there were a few tangles in her hair but nothing like the vicious knots he was used to seeing in grounder hair. Even her horse, a majestic creature with a plush winter coat in a nearly identical shade of chestnut, showed little more than a day or two's dirt. He narrowed his eyes.

"Why are you helping us?" He asked suspiciously.


End file.
